Coming Out

He sounded out of breath when he came on the line. He had run up from the stables, and was surprised when Felicia told him Olympia was calling. Unless something dire was happening, she never called him. Whatever plans or information she needed to share, she sent by e-mail.

“Something wrong?” he asked, sounding worried. She would have had the same reaction if he called. Chatty calls were unheard of between them. Neither of them was interested in social contact with each other. He couldn't understand the choices she'd made, to go to law school, and marry a Jew. And she had even less respect for how he chose to lead his life, and with whom. She thought Felicia was a moron. But like it or not, she and Chauncey shared three children, which forced them to have some contact with each other, if only on state occasions, like the girls' debut. Later on there would be weddings, shared grandchildren, and christenings. To Olympia, it was not a cheering prospect. Nor to him. He had developed a profound dislike for her over the years, and couldn't imagine why he had married her, either.

“No. Everything's fine. I didn't mean to worry you. I just wanted to touch base before the big night. I can't believe it's almost here. Where will you be staying?”

“At Felicia's brother's apartment. He's in Europe.” Olympia had heard years before that it was a palatial penthouse on Fifth Avenue, with a breathtaking view of the park, and a glass dome over a hot tub on the terrace. He was a perennial bachelor and only slightly older than Felicia. He was best known for dating Hollywood starlets, and European princesses. The girls had been impressed by his Ferrari when they last saw him.

“That should be nice,” Olympia said benignly. “Will you be here for long?” She wondered if she should invite them to the house for drinks, but cringed at the prospect, and she knew Harry would, too. The two men grudgingly acknowledged each other. Harry was polite to him, but Chauncey was barely civil. He ignored him.

“Just the weekend. Is Veronica behaving?” Chauncey asked with interest.

“Seems like it. She finally lined up an escort. Some boy called Jeff Adams. She swears he's respectable. I hope she's right.”

“If he's not, or looks like hell, the committee will kick him out at the rehearsal. Any idea who his parents are?” He didn't ask if Jeff's parents were in the Social Register, but Olympia knew he'd like to.

“None. All she said is that his sister came out last year,” which meant that he would pass muster for Chauncey. That was all it took. The criteria were simple for him.

“Ask her what his father's name is. I can look them up in the Social Register, maybe I know them.” For once, it might be reassuring. The Social Register ran Chauncey's life, the way some people's were ruled by the Bible. It was his Bible. Olympia didn't even own one, although years before her family had been in it. They had dropped her when she married Harry and disappeared off the fancy social scene forever. She had pretty much done that when she left Chauncey. They had kept her name in for a couple of years after that, as a courtesy, and then her name was withdrawn when she remarried. Chauncey had considered that a major tragedy. Olympia thought it was funny.

“I don't think I want to ruffle Veronica's feathers any more than they already are. I'm just grateful she's agreed to do it.”

“I should hope so,” he said, sounding as though they had averted a major tragedy, or a near drowning. He couldn't even imagine having a daughter who didn't make her debut. It would have been a disaster in his life. “They have dresses, I assume,” he said, trying to maintain the banter she was keeping up. He was stunned that she had called him, for apparently no important reason, and he thought it suspicious, but if truly benign, then it was very nice of her. Usually, when they had contact, it was over some dispute, and she was feisty with him.

“They'll both look beautiful,” Olympia assured him. “The dresses are lovely.”

“I'm not surprised,” he said charitably. “You have a good eye.” Better than Felicia, he knew. Olympia had impeccable taste. Felicia's was a little fluffy, though he would never have said that to either wife. “Is your husband coming?” He had no idea why he had asked her that, it seemed obvious that he would, and Chauncey was surprised when she hesitated.

“No, actually. He isn't. He has some family event he has to go to,” and then she remembered that Frieda would be there, and decided to be honest with him. “Actually, that's not true. He thinks the whole idea is politically incorrect, and excludes people of other races and colors, so he's not coming.”